


The Little Voice Inside My Head

by multifacetedfangirl



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: ((from moana)), Conceal Don't Feel, Crowley's Tattoo (Good Omens), Fluff, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Morosexuality, Mutual Pining, Oh wait, Pining, Softie Crowley (Good Omens), it would take a miracle for these two to realize how much they love one another, my-love-for-my-angel edition, snake a la maui
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-22 18:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifacetedfangirl/pseuds/multifacetedfangirl
Summary: Sometimes you need a help from a little friend to get your husband to love you...





	The Little Voice Inside My Head

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic from my tumblr ((under the same name)) based on this post:
> 
> https://multifacetedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/186512666626/multifacetedfangirl-broke-crowleys-tattoo-is-a
> 
> Enjoy, and please let me know what you think! Comments give me sustenance!

There’s not a lot that Aziraphale does that can surprise Crowley anymore. His angel, while an absolute sweetheart, is really quite predictable. After the Unpocalypse, the two of them fell back into their usual habits. Feeding the ducks at the river, walks through the park, dinner at the Ritz, occasionally ((often)) followed by an elaborate drinking session in the musty darkness of Aziraphale’s bookshop. They’re comfortable, and both ((through unsaid implied communication)) have come to the easy solution that they will never ((ever, under any circumstance, no matter what)) talk about the fact that they are ((undeniably)) in love with one another. Have been, for ages now. It shows in their small touches and subtle words, but never anything more. Crowley has resigned himself to this, no matter how it tugs at his heart to deny himself anything more.

This is why, when the voice inside Crowley’s head, ((or rather, printed upon the side)) points out certain changes in his angel’s behavior, the yellow-eyed demon can’t bring himself to believe it.

~~He’sssss watching you again.~~

_What do you mean, no he’s not._

Crowley licks at his popsicle mindlessly, wondering what in hell his snake is hissing at him about. He glances to the side, pupils wide in an attempt to observe Aziraphale without him noticing.

~~Lick the popsssssicle again. Sssssslower.~~

Crowley frowns slightly, but his snake never leads him astray ((at least not too much)) . He drags his tongue over the cold ice, as he listens to Aziraphale vividly describe how he fended off a very determined book collector who had managed to make it into his store a ((shockingly)) a second time. Suddenly there’s a choking noise and Aziraphale’s story sputters to a stop as he coughs his lungs out ((metaphorically of course)) and Crowley pats him thoroughly on the back and hums sympathetically. 

~~Sssssee?~~

_That doesn’t mean anything. Angel chokes on his food all the time._

~~You’re sssso denssse~~

Crowley just snaps away his popsicle, and turns back to his angel, endearingly fond eyes just barely hidden behind his dark glasses. 

_______________________________________________________________

The next time his little friend speaks up, it’s an unusually blistering hot summer day. The two immortal beings look up into the perfectly cloudless sky and decide between themselves that most likely, Adam had wanted to go to the beach again ((it’s not that they minded, only that after 2 weeks of rain, it was a bit of a surprise)). Anyway, as it was exceedingly hot, the rouge agents of heaven and hell decide to take the day off ((like one Adam Young)) and head to the beach. 

Crowley ((tires screeching)) pulls to a stop in front of A. Z. Fell and Co. - Bookshop. He sits in the sweltering heat, still in his black pants and jacket. He’s joined by Aziraphale, also in his suit, but who’s lugging a rather large picnic basket along with him. 

~~Help him with the basssssket.~~

_No, he’s fine._

~~Don’t be imposssssible. Thissss issss the perfect opportunity!~~

_For what?_

~~You blesssssed idiot; to show him you care!~~

Crowley’s cheeks pink a little as he hurry out of the car to grab the basket from the angel’s hand ((who, to say the least, looks slightly confused at the unnecessary

action)). 

“Bit warm isn’t it?” Aziraphale comments breathlessly as Crowley speeds down the motorway towards the coast. 

“You can say that again. Reminds me of home.” the demon grouses. There’s a heavy silence as the two beings think about their respective home offices, but put the thoughts out of their heads as the Bentley slips into a previously unavailable spot at the packed beach. 

They walk toward the water, and approach the perfect piece of the sandy beach; far enough from the water to avoid the shrieking children, but close enough to occasionally feel the mist of a heavy wave. The angel looks around him, then sits carefully on the beach chair. His pale suit has been replaced with a one piece swimsuit ((in a style reminiscent of the 1920’s male swimsuit models)). Crowley, who hasn’t seen this much of the Principality Aziraphale since he accidentally walked in on him in the Turkish baths, suddenly finds himself wondering if demons can die of heart attacks.

~~Change!~~

_What?_ Crowley thinks dumbly, swallowing thickly as Aziraphale smears sunscreen over his arms and legs, pushing his floppy hat out of the way to cover his face as well. ((Crowley doesn’t think that angels need sunscreen, considering how near the sun they work, but what does he know))

~~You need a sssswimssssuit! Preferably ssssomething ssssmaller than that!~~

_Huh._ Crowley is still, understandably, speechless. ((Aziraphale is taking a very long time to apply the sunscreen. Very slowly indeed.))

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s inquisitive voice breaks through his thoughts. ((and what thoughts they are!)) 

“Yes, angel? What were you saying?” Crowley shakes his head, trying to clear his messy thoughts.

“I asked if you were sure you would be comfortable in that. It’s not getting any cooler today my dear.” 

~~Thissss isss your chancccce!~~

“Oh yes, you’re right angel.” As the demon speaks, he can see out of the corner of his eye, an enormous bodybuilder. Oiled up, he flexes and shows off for a crowd of swooning women, and he is clad in what looks like a very very small underwear. ((it hides very very little, obviously))

~~That!~~

_WHAT, no. I couldn’t._

~~Your angel would love it.~~

_No, he wouldn’t even notice._

~~Jusssst trusssst me.~~

Crowley plops down on the blanket, suit and jeans now replaced by a small firetruck-red speedo. He glances quickly at Aziraphale, trying to gauge his reaction without making it obvious. The lovestruck tempter turns back slowly when he doesn’t see his angel react at all, discouraged. 

“Do you need-“ he hears Aziraphale start after a moment. “Um, do you need help with sunscreen?” the angel finally finishes.

“No, why would I? It’s not like I burn easily.” Crowley responds in a calm voice (( Bear in mind this is a very impressive feat considering the facts: He is not calm, at all)).

~~Fool!~~

“Oh, uh. Yes, how foolish of me.”

_Wait, was that-?_

~~Yesssss! I told you!~~

_Should I-?_

~~No, now it’ssss too late!~~

The rest of the beautiful day at the beach is spent in painful silence as the two deities glance at the other, hoping to find the answers neither of them know they are looking for.

_________________________________________________________

~~Jusssst talk to him about it.~~

_Stop._

~~He wantsss you to.~~

_N-no he doesn’t._

~~Yesss, he does.~~

…

~~He alsssso wantsss you to grab him by that ridiculousssss frilly collar and kissss him sssensselessss.~~

_Be quiet._

~~And you want to run your handssss through hissss sssstupid curlssss.~~

_Shut up._

~~And to presss hisss body againsssst yoursss, pulling him closssser and closssser-~~

“SHUT UP!” the demon suddenly bursts, his face flushing with a bright red, hands clammy with sweat, heart racing, and pants just a tad too tight. 

Aziraphale, who had been so far recalling an actually quite interesting story from their days in Rome, jerks backwards at the force in Crowley’s voice. 

“My dear, is everything alright?” he asks in a quiet voice. 

Crowley, after 6000 years of noticing every twitch on the angel’s face, realizes that he has in fact ‘fucked up’ ((as the kids say these days)). 

“Yes, yes! Nothing is wrong! We’re all perfect here!” ((Things were not perfect))

The flash of hurt that the Crowley notices on Aziraphale’s features doesn’t subside, and Crowley panics, trying to figure out how to fix what is truly a horrendously rude situation. 

“I mean, it’s not you. It wasn’t about you. I mean it was- but it wasn’t. I wasn’t yelling at you, I was yelling at the sn- snail.” ((Crowley is trying to not reveal the exact sentimentalities of the snake tattoo. It is not going in his favor)) he stammers, attempting ((unsuccessfully)) to placate his angel. 

“I’ll just go then, maybe we can meet sometime later” Gathering his coat, Aziraphale stands, his voice soft and pain written across his face. 

Crowley ((who is getting very desperate at this point)) stands as well, and grabs the coat of Aziraphale’s sleeve, “Wait!”. As Aziraphale stand there, a questioning look on his face, Crowley opens and closes his mouth like a fish, trying to find something to say. 

~~Do it.~~

~~Kissssss him.~~

There’s a beat of silence, time seems to have stopped itself again.

~~NOW!~~

Crowley, giving in to his inner self, grabs the collar of Aziraphale’s jacket, pulls him close, and softly presses his lips to his angel’s. A moment passes, ((Crowley imagines the snake being crushed slowly to death)) and starts to pull away from Aziraphale, when suddenly two soft hands come to grasp his face softly and Aziraphale sighs into Crowley, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Finally,” the smiling angel murmurs, “What brought this on?”

Crowley grins back like an idiot ((aka a fool in love)), “The little snake just wouldn’t shut up.”

____________________________

~~I won’t ssssay I told you, but…~~


End file.
